Self Belief

I used to think there was something wrong with my follow-through. I taught myself to sew a while back. I still remember the energy of it: fabric spread out on the table, pattern pieces pinned and cut, that particular excitement of starting something with your hands. And then, without fail, I would stop. Not because…

It is eight o’clock on a Sunday evening in June. Outside, the light is still doing that particular British summertime thing where it refuses to leave. The sky is bright, the garden is golden, and if we went only by what our eyes were telling us, we would think the day was still ours. Then…